Death's Companion
by PoorlyThoughtOutPlan
Summary: There are several fics about Harry gaining the title of "Master of Death" but what about a story that focuses on the situation from Death's point of view? "Death is a constant thing. An irreversible truth. An inevitable fate that awaits every living thing. And maybe because of Death's seeming omnipotence, he could be forgiven a little bit of arrogance." How the DHs came to be.
1. Chapter 1

Death is a constant thing. An irreversible truth. An inevitable fate that awaits every living thing. And maybe because of Death's seeming omnipotence, he could, perhaps, be forgiven his arrogance. You see, Death had been so prevalent throughout the years (thousands and thousands of them) that it had become an entity. It was evolution at its finest; forming one of nature's most powerful and unforgiving children.

Death, he had been aware for many millions of years, but he was peripherally aware that he had technically been around for even longer than that…since the beginning, in fact. The only being older than Death was God himself, but then a couple thousand years ago, God decided he was due for a vacation and told Death to handle things until he got back. Of course Death, being the wonderful younger brother that he was, followed god's request faithfully…until the first few centuries went by and no word was sent from the older sibling. Naturally, Death got bored, and decided to let things play out, only deigning to intervene when global destruction was at hand.

Over time, as he had gotten to the point where he didn't need to be present for every single reaping and the souls would simply go where they needed to, he traveled among the humans. They were interesting creatures, Death decided, they possessed an insatiable curiosity that the other species did not. This enabled them to rise to the top of the food chain and build their own societies and cities. Death watched them as they created countries and cultures, learning as many things as they could on the way. He would have been impressed, if it hadn't been for the countless wars and other smaller conflicts the used to get to that point. Death decided that the humans, curious though they may be, would never be able to accomplish anything, they were always fighting over something with little to no harmony to show for it. Of course it was not too long after he had made that observation, that Death was forced to rethink his conclusions.

It was at some point after the fall of Rome when Death first noticed them. There was a small family of three hiding in their small shack of a house, hunched over a single candle. At first, when Death wandered through, he didn't think much of it beyond the brief, contemptuous, _simpletons_ ,that flashed through his mind. Then, just as he was about to leave, he felt it; a sliver of _power_ fill the room and center on the candle. When he turned back, it was to the sight of the child, a young boy no older than four, standing with his chubby little hands outstretched over the wax with a look of intense concentration on his face. There was a short flare of the same power before a tiny flame flickered to life on the candlewick. The woman gasped and the father smiled proudly. The child, finished with his display, tiredly dropped his hands and grinned at his accomplishment. Meanwhile the family was oblivious to the stunned immortal entity standing invisibly in the middle of their house.

Death couldn't believe it! The humans had figured out how to use their spirit to manipulate the elements. That had always been one of the biggest things Death had held against the race; their complete ignorance and refusal to use their own inner power. One of the strongest forces in the universe (aside from Death and God himself) was the power of souls. Humans in particular had some of the largest reserves when compared to any other living thing on the planet. The bigger animals came close, but their lack of intelligence made it impossible for them to utilize it, and Death had though the same was true of humans, but apparently they had figured it out. _They were becoming self-aware,_ Death realized with a start.

After that particular wake up call, Death made it a point to watch out for any other spirit-wielding humans, and found that over the next century, the practice had spread out among the people on every continent. Death silently approved that the people were teaching the others and hoped that it would one day become something every human learned. Eventually, though, he had to admit defeat on that point—powerless humans could be cruel and viscous to the things they didn't understand, and had decided to condemn those that practiced the arts. The mundane section of the population had even chosen a name for those that used the gift, "witches," was the most popular, and Death had a feeling that one would probably stick. Of course, being humans, the newly christened witches had to come up for their own name for mundane; and although Death didn't think "muggles" had any particular meaning, he could tell that this was a derogatory term.

It was around this time that Death had pretty much seen all that he could until the humans decided to upgrade their ever evolving technology again. In his boredom, and admittedly extreme arrogance, he chose to play a trick on the self-proclaimed "wizards." In this trick, Death decided to give a couple of them gifts, and though he would ensure that these "gifts" would have power, he would also attach a lovely little curse to each of the items. Something that would haunt the owners until their death. There wasn't much that could go wrong with Death's prank, except for the little "Master of Death" bit that he'd had to make up on the spot, but it wasn't that big of a deal—there was no such thing as a Master of Death. Sure, if some poor bastard did somehow manage to get all three items in his possession, then he'd have an extremely hard time trying to die and Pass On, but that wasn't really Death's problem. Not yet anyway. He'd deal with that headache when it happened, if it ever did. But when Death considered all the nasty curses and traps and compulsions he'd placed on both the items and the men he'd handed them off to, it wasn't exactly likely to happen. In fact, the probability was something like 0000000000000000.1 chance of even getting _two_ of the so called "Deathly Hallows" together in the same place. Very unlikely.

And so it was the Death went on about his existence, happily ignoring the possibility that he could be responsible for the future accidental immortality that would one day befall a certain hero of the wizarding world.


	2. Chapter 2

_May 2, 1998._

 _The Forbidden Forest, just as Harry opens the snitch…_

Death was in Japan when he felt it: an irritatingly insistent tugging on his life-force that just wouldn't go away. At first he tried to ignore it, but it only got more urgent the more he left it. Finally, he took his attention away from little Asian people working on their newest electronic creation. It was quite fascinating, really, and so was annoying that he was forced to take away his attention from their progress.

Sighing as he turned his magic towards the pulling, he disappeared from the middle of the room, unbeknownst to the oblivious Japanese game developers. In the same instant, he appeared in the center of a clearing of what he was fairly certain was called "The Forbidden Forest."

Why he was in Scotland, Death wasn't sure, but once he turned around and saw the boy, suddenly all the pieces fell together and Death utter a little, "oh."

Harry, on the other hand, was standing frozen, with the open snitch in the palm of his hand. Death watched with slight trepidation as he saw the numbers of a date roughly eighty years in the future floating above Harry's head. Every living creature had a date of death that had yet to be realized, and Death was the only one to see them (obviously), what was wrong with Harry's, however, was the fact that his death date was slowly fading from view as Death looked on with an emotion he vaguely recognized as horror.

"Who—what are you?"

Death glanced over at the shivering teen and realized that he had, in his shock, loosened his hold over his aura. Tightening it as soon as he noticed, Death wondered how he should answer; if he told Harry that he was Death, the poor kid would probably have a conniption. On the other hand if he gave Harry a false name and no information, he'd probably have Mother Nature on his ass for leaving a brand new baby immortal all alone without any mentoring. Not to mention the child's new power would be a part of Death's dominion, and so, his responsibility.

Decisions, decisions…

"Er…Death." He said a bit awkwardly. From the goggle-eyed look he got from the raven haired teen, blurting it out like that probably wasn't the best way to come out and say it but…well, Death wasn't known for being good with feelings.

"D-Death?" Harry stuttered, fists clenching and he took a shaky step back.

Nodding thoughtfully, Death took a step forward to inspect the now nearly invisible death date. Ignoring the teen's confused stuttering, Death reached out to snatch the resurrection stone from Harry's grasp. Turning it over in his hand, he pulled at the lines of magic connecting the three Hallows, and saw the death magic webbed into Harry's own magical core. Sighing, Death allowed the strands of magic to fall back into place and handed the stone back to its new owner. "Well I guess that's it then." Death cocked his head, gazing at his new "Master." He honestly didn't look like much, but Death supposed he could fix that with a little bit of time. He'd definitely have to have Harry ready before he showed him to Mother Nature and Father Time; the humiliation would not be lived down if he tried to tell them his new minion was a 5'2 midget with insecurity issues and noodle arms.

Mentally adding _food_ and _a shit ton of training_ to his To Do list, Death circled the boy, looking for any other improvements to be had.

"Hmmm, those glasses need to go…and what the hell are you wearing? Do teenagers think a hobo is the look to recreate now?"

Harry stumbled back a bit _was he that intimidating?_ "Wha-what are you talking about? You're _Death_ why do you care about the way I look? And aren't you a little early? I haven't even let Voldemort kill me yet."

Death had been planning on letting the kid stew a bit in his terror, but that last sentence caught his attention pretty quickly. "Hold on, "let Voldemort kill me?" Death stood up straight, brow furrowed. "Why on earth would you do something so monumentally stupid? I thought you were at least mildly intelligent, given that you managed to gather my Hallows, but I suppose I was wrong."

The green-eyed teen look taken aback, "but I…I have to die, that's why you're here isn't it? Because I have a piece of Voldemort inside of me?"

Death blinked slowly. "Oh," he said, "Is that all you wanted? I can take that out if you like, I just sort of thought it was intentional or something."

Harry stared at him for a minute. "You can take it out?"

"If you want me to."

"Just like that?"

"Sure."

Harry stared a bit more. "Why the hell would I _want_ to have someone else's soul _inside_ me? Much less my parent's murderer?"

"Sentimental value, maybe?" Death tried, shrugging as he spoke, "I can't claim to understand human emotions all that well, I'm afraid; you don't get much social interaction being Death."

"That does make sense, I guess…" Harry muttered, before squaring his shoulders, "Either way, I want it out."

"Of course, _master_ ," Death sniggered, "Whatever you desire." Ignoring Harry's glare, he stretched out a hand to poke a finger to his scar. Tearing through the physical plane and into the ether, Death probed the parasitic soul shard lightly. Judging from Harry's grimace and the shard's writhing, they were pretty well connected. It was a pity, Death mused as he painstakingly plucked each stand of the shard's tethers off, that such a beauty had to be destroyed. It was quite a work of art, to have a relatively healthy symbiotic relationship between the shard and the host; between the subliminal sharing of memory's and a natural, low level mental shield, it was a shame to destroy the piece. The squealing noises the shard was making apparently disturbed the young boy, so Death made a point to draw it out as long as possible, just to be ornery—it's not like Harry would know he could do it faster. When Death finally pulled the last of the strings of influence off of the teen, he held it cupped in his hand so he could decide what to do with it.

When Harry, blood dripping out of his nose, opened his eyes to see the shredded soul shard sitting in a wispy heap on Death's palm, he narrowed his eyes. "Aren't you going to kill it?" He asked, pointing obviously at it.

Airily, Death replied, "No, why should I?"

"Because Voldemort has to die!" Harry shouted, "He's a maniac and he's killed thousands of people, that's why I'm fighting this bloody war!"

Death pouted, "But it's so interesting! I've yet to see such an excellent case of a Horcrux combining with its host."

"That's beside the point, he's evil and he needs to be killed!" The teen's eyes were pleading as he spoke, "Please! I know you're Death and basically a neutral entity and everything, but if we don't fight and win this war, there will be no light left!"

Scratching his head with his free hand, Death sighed, "I suppose…it's not like the shard will do me much good without it's connection to the first host anyway…" Harry watched on as Death sulkily crushed the shard in his hand, Fiendfyre wreathing his fist.

"…Thank you."

"…Whatever."

"There's just one left," Harry breathed, realization crowning his face, "We just need to kill Nagini and him and we're done!"

"Not to mention all those minions of his," Death added helpfully, "You'll have to do those too. I would assist you, of course, but I'm afraid I'm a bit busy at the moment—terrible amount of paperwork to be done—"

"The Death Eaters?" Harry laughed, "at least they'll die with one shot."

Death froze. ""Death Eaters" They call themselves Death Eaters?"

Turning around to see Harry's dawning smirk, "Oh yeah, I didn't tell you? They're an awfully arrogant lot, you know. Always on about how they're master is the only one to cheat death himself."

Fury bubbled up in Death, the likes of which he'd not felt for quite some time, his aura snapped and snarled around him. "They will burn." He hissed, stalking past his newest minion, he failed to notice the sudden look of fear cross Harry's face.

 _Oh yes,_ Death thought, _they claim to conquer me? I'll just have to prove those_ insects _their proper place._


End file.
